Muse goes on overload at packed United Center

March 05, 2013|By Bob Gendron, Special to the Tribune

Muse guitarist Matthew Bellamy performs during a concert at the United Center on Monday evening. (Reid Compton for the Chicago Tribune)

Comic-book superheroes and action-movie stars have nothing on Muse. Not, at least, in terms of resilience and determination. Monday at a near-capacity United Center, the English trio championed survivalist songs that rallied against dystopian societies, unnamed oppressors and collapsing environments. Defeat wasn't an option. Neither was understatement. The band took advantage of its arena surroundings, matching oversize arrangements to extravagant visuals that reinforced issues of chaos, struggle and information overload.

Muse has long specialized in ambitious spectacle, wherein cutting-edge presentation trumps musical originality. The group's theatrical reputation turned it into a draw at destination festivals, particularly in Europe, where the ensemble often plays stadiums. Sonic and thematic evolutions preceded the band's rise in the United States. After mimicking Radiohead on early albums, Muse delved into glam, progressive and electronic realms. It also tapped into an overlooked geek culture whose presence in mainstream arts continues to grow.

Performing songs about melting glaciers ("Supermassive Black Hole"), thermodynamics ("The 2nd Law: Unsustainable") and brainwashing ("Supremacy"), Muse embraced subjects in line with an infatuation with modern technology and its capacities. Akin to an apocalyptic film in which the protagonist rescues civilization from natural disaster or fantasy plot where a few bold souls battle alien forces, the trio keyed on themes of panic, resistance, desperation and will. Looking nothing like the bulked-up specimens saving the day on the big screen, the band members' normal appearances furthered their connection to audiences interested in traditionally nerdy pursuits such as science fiction and gaming.

Nearly dwarfed by a stage rimmed by projection screens and walkways, Muse came across as the sensory and narrative equivalent of video-game franchises such as "Halo." The group's high-tech displays and rousing refrains suggested liberation and triumph always remained within reach, even for underdogs. Imagination and resolve were the only requirements; shouting along and pumping fists to communal choruses didn't hurt. "No one's going to take me alive," cried vocalist/guitarist/pianist Matthew Bellamy on the galloping "Knights of Cydonia," embodying the against-all-odds fighting spirit that infused the 105-minute set. Applied to each song, unique graphic treatments and bombastic lighting combined with Bellamy's exaggerated moves to heighten the drama.

Lasers, smoke plumes, rotating drum risers and a mobile five-tier illumination tower that descended from overhead—and, at one point, engulfed the band—made anthem singer Jim Cornelison's raising of his arm toward the American flag during the "Star-Spangled Banner" at Blackhawks games seem subtle. Ditto the blinding mix of stock-market tickers, circuits, geometric shapes, mathematical formulas and random letters that scrolled across screens, creating giant Rubik's Cubes of images, colors and figures. Muse's fare subscribed to a similarly frenzied amalgamation of styles.

Amid staple prog- and hard-rock tunes, Muse touched on synthpop ("Undisclosed Desires"), moody R&B ("Madness") and dance-baiting funk ("Panic Station"). Rather than showcase eclecticism, the derivative attempts betrayed the songs' obvious influences. Bellamy's falsetto pleas and vibrato phrasing proved more effective on power ballads and booming anthems. For Muse, as with most blockbuster entertainment, the bigger the better.